


Vorfreude

by pressedinthepages



Series: Vorfreude [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Pillow Talk, Plans For The Future, Relationship Discussions, Smut, Wedding Night, should we have kids???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24989725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: Reader and Jaskier have married, and they have a celebratory evening culminating in a discussion of the future.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Series: Vorfreude [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832521
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Vorfreude

**Author's Note:**

> Reader Request: Hey! Can you please write an oneshot where it’s set after the female reader and Jaskier get married and they have their first time having sex as a married couple..which brings out the discussion of whenever they thought about having children, and the reader revealing her insecurities about whenever Jaskier finds her beautiful not? Please and thank you!  
> OMG so cute and fluffy i love it

“May I, my dear?” Jaskier asks as you approach the doorway to the little cottage you call your own. But now, it is not only yours, it’s your  _ family’s,  _ Jaskier’s and yours, together. You’re both still in your finery, but you’ve shed your shoes long ago and Jaskier’s doublet has been open for hours, his chemise undone at the top as always. 

“Oh darling, you don’t have to- _oh_!” you exclaim as he suddenly ducks and wraps an arm under your legs and behind your back and lifts you. You throw your head back and laugh as he hefts you into his arms, his grip strong and familiar around you. Your hands wind around his neck as he kicks open your door, striding over the threshold before nudging it closed with his hip. 

His eyes shine in the dim of your cottage, lit only by the moonlight seeping in through the windows. They are the clearest pools of water, reflecting the sky back upon itself. Jaskier dips his head and you shift in his arms to place a kiss to his lips. He always tastes so sweet, of honey and whiskey, and something that you can’t name but it reminds you of the way the sun shines across a field of flowers.

The kiss itself is sweet, gentle presses against your lips slowly deepening, but neither of you is in any rush. You relish the moment, content to be held against his chest as your fingers rove through his soft chestnut hair. You feel his grip tighten around you, trying to pull you impossibly closer as he moans against your lips. Jaskier has always been the impatient one, but you have always been more than happy to comply.

You wriggle in his arms and when he sets you down you step back, enough to break the kiss but still close enough to keep your hands on his chest. You slide them under his doublet, admiring the delicate flowers that adorn the hem. The fabric sips down his shoulders and he pulls it from his arms, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Your fingers tug his light chemise from his trousers, causing a shudder as you brush against the bare skin of his stomach. 

You lean as you lift the shirt over his head, pressing kisses along any newly bared skin that you can reach. His chest is toned from years of travel and performing, but since he has been staying with you, he has become just a bit softer from the comfort. Jaskier finishes removing the shirt, throwing it to sit along with his doublet. 

You move forwards, fitting your body against his as you suckle on his neck. Your fingers dance through the dusting of dark hair on his chest, and you feel him growl as you brush over one of his nipples. Jaskier pulls you back to him, kissing you rougher,  _ hungrier,  _ swallowing your moans as he walks the both of you backward. 

You feel your back against the wall and Jaskier presses into you, and you can feel the hardness of his cock against your hip. You bite at the bottom of his lip as he pulls back, needing air but letting his hands glide over your body. He bunches your skirt into his fists, the soft fabric trailing along your skin as he pulls the clothes over your head. They drop to the floor as his hands return to your waist, spinning you so your face was towards the wall.

You could feel him at the stays of your corset, fingers deftly moving to undo the ties keeping it together. You take a deep breath as it loosens, finally falling to your feet as you shudder lightly with the exposure to the air. Jaskier’s hands ghost along the skin of your back, settling at the tops of your underclothes. As they slip down your legs you feel him place a bruising kiss to the top of your arsecheek. 

You mockingly gasp as you step out of the delicate underthings, leaving you bare before your husband. Jaskier’s lips move upwards, tracing a path along your spine as you hear him undo the ties of his trousers. You hear him stumble a bit as he slides them off, a rustling of fabric sounding from far across the room as he tosses the trousers behind him. 

He trails lower, hands pushing your hips to turn to face him once more. He is on his knees before you, naked and smiling and  _ hard as a rock.  _ You smile down at him and run a hand through his hair, letting him lean into your touch and relish the sweet intimacy. 

“You, my darling, are the most beautiful thing that this Earth has ever had the honor of giving life to,” Jaskier never breaks from your gaze as he speaks, his voice low and tender. “I wish that I needn’t blink, for each moment that I spend not gazing at you is a moment wasted.”

You blush, not caring to argue with him now. He always has such pretty words for you, and you have long since learned that no matter how much you may disagree, Jaskier will always win in a battle of words. It’s nice, though, his brutal honesty lined with poetic grace. 

Jaskier scoots himself forward, nudging your legs apart and pushing you to lean against the wall at your back. He kisses up one leg, stopping at a point on the inside of your thigh to suck a mark into the soft skin. His teeth glance and nip, his tongue soothing as your hands tighten in his hair to try to pull him closer to where you yearn for him to be. You feel him smile against your thigh and he moves, kissing  _ just  _ above the apex of your core and you almost cry out in frustration. 

But, ever the master of timing, he runs a finger up your slit and places his mouth onto your core. Your knees buckle around him as you feel a wash of arousal soar through your body and he moves a hand to support you by your rear. He deepens his movements, licking and sucking and positively  _ drinking  _ you in. Jaskier presses a finger into you, slowly opening his eyes to look up at you. They are deep and dark with lust, but the neverending sweetness of your beloved still shines through in his gaze. 

He plays with you, bringing you slowly to your peak of pleasure. Jaskier knows just how you need him, his talented fingers working you open as you write against him. Your hands tangle through his hair and try to pull him to you, your hips starting to buck impatiently against his mouth. He smirks up at you and closes his eyes, focusing on the task at hand as he abruptly speeds up his ministrations. 

Your climax comes quickly, a sudden burst of light behind your eyes as your hips thrust into his movements. You feel yourself clench around his fingers, his cheeks hollowing around the peak of your core as he prolongs your pleasure. Your head is thrown back against the wall with a  _ thunk  _ and you moan Jaskier’s name loudly into the sky. Only when you wither and quake against him does Jaskier let you go, moving to sit back on his heels. 

He stands and cups a hand to your face, pulling you to him. You taste yourself on his lips, something earthy and sweet mixing with the normal taste of Jaskier. You push him further into the home, only stopping when you are at the foot of your bed. With a light shove, you send him to lay atop the blankets before you straddle his hips.

You reach behind you, taking his cock in your hand and giving it a few pumps before lifting your hips. You line him up and slowly sink down, his fingers gripping bruisingly to your hips. Once you have taken him fully you still, only briefly letting yourself adjust before moving. Jaskier stretches you, the burn one of the most erotic feelings you’ve ever had the great pleasure of experiencing. 

The pace you set is unforgiving, rolling your hips as you move along his length. You feel your heart pounding against your chest and you moan, something breathy and ethereal in the moonlight. Jaskier shifts beneath you, rising to meet your chest as he kisses you deeply. His hips meet your every thrust, his hands digging into your flesh, guiding you towards the peak of pleasure once more. 

You hear him getting closer, his breath quick and his jaw clenched with arousal. With every thrust, he is hitting that bundle of nerves deep in your core, your climax building and threatening to spill over at any moment. You grip his chin, speaking against his lips in barely more than a whisper.

“Please, love, use me, take your pleasure, make me yours, mark me as yours, I need you…”

You’re cut off by a low groan as you feel him spill inside of you, still spearing into you as he bites into the soft flesh of your shoulder. He breathes your name, and all of the different feelings and sounds and needs and wants dissipate, leaving only a euphoric deafening, blinding in its focus on your pleasure. You settle your head into the crook of Jaskier’s neck, holding him close as you both come down from the high. He is whispering against your skin, the words muffled but the message of love and praise is felt through every nerve in your body. 

You move your lips to his, kissing him delicately as he strokes his hands along your body. You pull back and lift from his hips, groaning at the loss of contact and the feeling of his hot spend dripping down your thighs. You flop down onto the bed beside Jaskier, but he moves away, rising to collect a damp cloth. He gently runs it along your body, cleaning you as he murmurs adoration into your hair. 

You bring him back down to you, clinging to him as he settles in the bed. Jaskier lays on his back, holding you against his side, stroking his fingers along the length of your middle. You lay in the blissful afterglow for a while before you hear him hum your name. You tilt your head back to look at him, meeting his ocean blue eyes that seem to have a question in them. 

“I...well, can...I mean, oh gods what am I saying?” You crook an eyebrow, it’s not often that Jaskier is struck so dumbly, the usually eloquent bard struggling to put together his thought.

“You know you can ask me anything, Jask, what’s on your mind?” your voice is soft, a velvety song through the night.

“I...well, I was wanting to ask, you know, now that we’re  _ married,  _ and you’re my  _ wife…” _

__ “Yes…?” you rest your hand by his heart, feeling it pound beneath your fingers. 

“I just want to know what your thoughts are on us having children…?” Jaskier is looking at you, terrified and hopeful glances painting his features. 

You breathe in, pondering the question before speaking. “Well, I suppose now is as good of a time to discuss that as any,” you smile, calming the man lightly. “It’d be an honor, and a privilege, to carry your children, Jaskier…”

“But...?” his voice is fraught with worry, as though you were going to tell him,  _ on your wedding night, _ that you thought he’d produce horrible children and you never wanted to see him again. 

“ _ But,  _ I’m not sure that I’m quite ready for all of that yet...I mean, we just got married, and you’re still going off on your adventures, which I would  _ never  _ ask you to stop doing, by the way. But I think that we both have some things that we’d like to do before we fully settle down into domestic life.”

Jaskier sighs, relieved that you’re not running out of the door or shoving him out instead. He grips you tight against him, a grin on his face as he whispers, “I believe that you have come up with a perfect plan for us, my dear.”

You laugh, settling your head back on his chest as Jaskier runs his fingers through your hair. “Besides,” you murmur, “I’m not sure I’m ready for you to see me so,” you throw your hand out in front of you, gesturing as if your stomach was swollen with child and blowing through your cheeks.

Jaskier’s chest shakes with his laughter, light and melodious under your head. “Oh, my love, I’ll love you no matter how you are, thin or thick or pregnant or any other combination, for you will always be  _ my wife,  _ the love of my life, the person that I wake up for every day and still wish to see even in my dreams.”

Your eyes prickle a bit at his words, but you only hug him closer as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head and you drift into a calm, sweet sleep in your husband’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) you can find me on tumblr @thefishmongersdaughterwrites


End file.
